The Second Generation
by MarshallSin
Summary: Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales teach the next generation of Riders. Meanwhile, a sinister presence is raising its foul nose in the land of Alagaesia. Will there be time to teach the new Riders correctly, or will their training be as rushed as Eragon's?
1. Chapter 1

_Eragon. _Eragon opened his eyes and smoothly climbed to his feet. He was still amazed by how quickly time passed when he meditated. Four hours ago, he asked Saphira to rouse him when Arya's ship came into flying range. It had been two years since he'd left Alagaësia, and created the home of the next generation of Riders. Eragon hoped that in that time, at least one of the two eggs he'd left in Alagaesia had hatched. He could feel the hope that radiated from Saphira, and knew that she felt the same way. He also knew that she was excited to see Fírnen.

Eragon raced through the small grove of trees where he meditated, and leapt over the river that ran through the island, encircling the place upon which he had begun construction of the main Citadel that would house future Riders. He skidded to a halt at the edge of the cliffs that overlooked the ocean and searched for Arya's ship. He quickly located it. The sleek elven craft sped through the ocean, breaking waves with its bow. A glittery green mass pushed itself off the deck of the ship, and raced towards him.

Eragon cast out with his mind, touching consciousness with Fírnen and Arya. Then he leapt off the cliffs edge and sped towards the water. Saphira dropped out of the clouds and dived towards him, spiraling beneath so that he landed on her saddle. With a whoomph, Eragon immediately regretted his decision. Saphira snorted in laughter at his discomfort but did not slow down even for a moment. She pulled up, flapping her wings once, then twice, then she shot forward to meet Fírnen.

She let out a roar of joy, both mentally and vocally, and Fírnen roared back. Eragon threw his head back and laughed loudly, excitement coursing through him. The two dragons wheeled about and flew back towards the island, the exuberance of the encounter washing over all four of them.

Eragon felt a tendril of thought touch his consciousness, and immediately dropped his barriers. _Arya!_ He cried. _Eragon!_ Her mind had the same musical note as when he first dared contact her, and Eragon felt the familiar urge to lose himself in the music of her thoughts. _How are you? Have you talked to Roran? Is Orik okay? Hows the new government fairing? Has Nasuada faced any trouble? Has an egg hatched? _Eragon was caught between his excitement to see Arya, and his thirst for knowledge in Alagaesia.

_Orik has began opening trade routes between the dwarves and the the rest of Alagaesia. Roran has helped to rebuild Carvahall. It's now one of the key locations along the Spine, serving as a trade-center between Humans and Urgals. Nasuada and the government are getting along fine, although Orrin hasn't made things easy for her. With the exception of the occasional out of control Urgal, things have been quiet._

Eragon bit back a thousand more questions, knowing that Arya would tell him all in due time. Instead, he focused on one question. _And what of you? Are you well, Arya? _She hesitated, and Eragon could sense a thought forming. But then she pushed it aside, and Eragon felt only her joy at seeing him. _Yes, Eragon, I am well. It was not easy settling in as Queen of the Elves, but things are starting to fall into place. However, you didn't wait two years to hear me talk about politics. It is good to see you, Eragon. _

Before Eragon could respond, Saphira and Fírnen landed abruptly. _If all you two are going to do is talk, then get off and let Firnen and I great each other properly. _Eragon bit back a laugh as Saphiras intentions became clear, and he promptly slid off her back. Arya leapt lightly off Fírnen and landed beside her.

"He's grown." Eragon said. And it was true. Fírnen had nearly doubled in length in the two years since they'd seen each other. Saphira and Fírnen leapt off the cliff, and disappeared from view, although the sound of their exuberance filled the air. Arya smiled happily at the two dragons. "He has indeed. The dwarves have had to reshape his armor three times this year alone." Eragon was alarmed at her words. "So he's needed armor, then? Has something come up? Has there been fighting?" Instead of answering, Arya turned to Eragon and looked deep into his eyes. Eragon again felt a pang as he saw the years of experience that he still lacked. She smiled a smile that started in her eyes and ended in her lips, then she stepped forward and kissed him.

Eragon felt every question, emotion, and concern leave his mind to be replaced by wonder. Then even that left, and all that was left was the kiss. The kiss lasted for an eternity, before it was broken by Saphira. _Well its about time._ Arya broke off the contact with a laugh, clear and loud. Arya looked at Eragon again, and turned to examine their surroundings. "So this is where you plan to train the new Riders, then?"

Eragon searched her voice for any hint of disapproval, but found only curiosity. Eager to show her what he'd created, he took Arya's hand and led her towards the Citadel. "I'm nowhere close to finished. So far, I've only created half of the main building. Even with magic, its been difficult. I've had the Eldunari to help guide me, but have had to come up with a lot of ideas on my own. Many of them are still recovering from the battle with Galbatorix. Others have succumb to grief now that they've had their revenge. Coming up with ideas for Urgal and Dwarvish accommodations hasn't been easy. I've had to build rooms large enough to make a Kull comfortable, and rooms small enough to comfortably house a dwarf. The old Riders had it easy, with elves and humans being close to the same height."

"The hardest part was digging. I originally picked this island because of the caves in the cliffside, but those aren't ideal. So far I've used magic to dig out a cave system that will not only provide a familiar comfort to dwarves, but will also house the eggs and Eldunari. I'm still not finished with the entire system, but I moved on to the building itself."

Arya listened with rapt attention as Eragon described all that he'd done. She examined his creations intently, showing surprise at all he'd done in the two years since they'd last spoken. Upon examining the final floor, she stopped and looked at Eragon with a trace of a smile on her lips.

"So it appears you're ready to train one or two new Riders, then?" She asked. Eragon quickly shook his head and began to list all that he still needed to accomplish, then stopped as he understood what she'd just told him.

"So, does that mean.." He could hardly bring himself to finish the sentence. Arya let the smile once again take hold of her lips, and she nodded. "Yes, Eragon. The eggs hatched. The first to the son of Nar Garzvog, and the second to a distant cousin of Orik's. The Riders now truly represent all races."

Eragon was overwhelmed with exhilaration, and apprehension. Through the ever present link between he and Saphira, he felt her shared excitement. _Eragon! More dragons! My race is growing once again! _Saphira's pure joy at the news exceeded even Eragons, and the two reveled in the news. Worry gnawed at him as he began to wonder how he would train the two Riders, but the worry was dispelled as an enormous consciousness touched his mind.

"Am I correct in assuming that the eggs have hatched? Glaedr asked, in his deep rumbling voice. Eragon and Saphira both began talking at once, telling him everything Arya had said. "Enough!" Glaedr growled. "How about Arya tells me?" He suggested. Arya greeted Glaedr happily, and told him of the new Riders.

"Nar Vogner was the first to bond. He and his dragon, Landran, traveled to Ellesmera to begin training with our spellcasters. Before he arrived however, Dorik bonded with Ragnorn. They arrived a few days after, and we began training. That was at the start of last winter. Rhunon reforged two of the blades liberated from Galbatorix's lair to match their fighting style, two days before the trip. Dorik was lucky enough to have been trained in swordsplay, although it raised an issue. We will have to find some way to accommodate future Riders who are used to fighting with axe or club."

Before Arya continued, Eragon flashed a quick grin. "Not to worry about that. We found a deposit of the brightsteel here on the island. It seemed the star that Rhunon saw was not the only one. I'll send it back with you, along with a plea to Rhunon to reconsider her vow never to forge a weapon again."

"That is indeed good news, although I fear that what I have to tell you now will counter it." Arya looked at Eragon seriously, and motioned for him to sit down. As the two sat, Arya began to fill Eragon in on the details that had begun to arise around Alagaesia.

"Numerous sorcerers have begun to appear in various locations, each one coming dangerously close to unleashing yet another Shade upon Alagaesia. At first, we thought they were isolated incidents. Then, a human sorcerer named Sendra rose near Teirm. She led a small army of renegades and magic users, and set out to ambush Nasuada." Alarmed, Eragon started to interrupt but Arya held up a hand.

"She is well, do not worry. Fírnen and I arrived with plenty of time to spare, and supported by the Nighthawks we assaulted Sendra's compound. Before Sendra died, however, she told us of a new threat rising outside of Alagaesia." Eragon felt his heart drop. Only two years after the downfall of Galbatorix, and already trouble was rising.

"Eragon, we need the new Riders to be trained as quickly as possible. We don't know what exactly this new threat is, for Sendra succumbed to her wounds shortly after telling us. All we know is that Fírnen and I will be hard pressed to continue flying around Alagaesia to fight these sorcerers, while keeping up with our duties as Queen. Many back home were pushing to have Nar Vogner and Dorik stay, and skip this crucial part of their training. But I convinced them that Fírnen and I simply cannot teach them everything they need to know."

Eragon doubted that he himself was capable of teaching the two young Riders, but belayed any comment. The already complex task of training two Riders would now be even more difficult, for he would be forced to teach them in a shortened amount of time.

"Eragon, as soon as the supplies we brought from Alagaesia are offloaded, Fírnen and I must leave. It was unwise of me to come in the first place, but I wanted to continue the Riders training in the time they travelled here."

She flashed a look at Eragon, and he knew that that wasn't the only reason she'd come. He smiled back, then began to mentally prepare lessons for the new Riders.

"When we leave, you will have six months before we return. I'm sorry to rush their training, but it must be done." Arya said, with a sense of finality.

Six months! Eragon thought. He worried about how competent these new Riders would be. They wouldn't have their bodies reworked by magic, the way Eragon had been healed during the Elven celebration. He would have to use those six months to train them to be effective on their own in a fraction of the time he would have preferred. Arya and Glaedr continued speaking of events back in Alagaesia, and Eragon began sifting through the training exercises that he'd done with Brom and Oromis, as well as ones he'd come up with himself. He would have to choose those which were most effective, and hope they would help these new Riders the way they helped him.

Dorik was more than ready to be off the elf ship. While he had nothing but respect for the tall magic infused species, he hated water. Even flying had been difficult for him, but at least then he knew he could trust that which bore him. His dragon, Ragnorn, was truly a sight to behold. He was of smaller stature than Landran, Fírnen, or even Saphira, but Dorik was confident that he was the fastest dragon currently hatched. Ragnorn was of a similar belief, although he still found it difficult to admit that he was the smallest of the lot.

Dorik thought back to the fateful day that he first laid eyes upon Eragon and Saphira. He had been a child, but had lied about his age to join Hrothgar, and aid the Varden on the Burning Plains. Seeing Hrothgar fall had set his blood boiling, and he lost control in what Nar Vogden referred too as a Bloodrage. Later accounts would have Dorik believe that he killed dozens of the Empires soldiers, but Dorik didn't believe it.

Before Ragnorn hatched, that battle was Dorik's greatest accomplishment. A spear from one of the Empire's soldiers put Dorik in the infirmary, where a friend of his mothers recognized him. Dorik swore to this day that he would have had an easier time facing Galbatorix himself than he had facing his mother after running away to fight.

Dorik was put on guard duty for Ragnorn's egg, and stolidly watched dozens of dwarves come and go, touching the egg in hopes it would hatch. Then one day, it did hatch. But not to anyone in line. Dorik and the other guard eyed each other cautiously, wondering for who the egg had hatched. Dorik knew that the other guard did not want to become a Rider. But Dorik was still undecided. When Ragnorn touched Dorik's palm, Dorik made up his mind.

The icefire that burned through his veins as Ragnorn forged the bond of Rider and Dragon between Dorik did nothing to change his mind. He wanted to be a Rider. His mother had cried at first, knowing that he would not be able to stay in Farthen Dur. Dorik and Ragnorn were close friends from the first word the dragon spoke. Dorik remembered the day well.

Dorik. Ragnorn had said, and Dorik remembered the chill that shot through him. He'd known dragons were intelligent, but the feeling of the massive alien consciousness touching his own was overwhelming. It was many days before Dorik was able to think of a name that Ragnorn would accept.

Ragnorn denied all of the names that Dorik presented from tales of old dragons, long dead. It wasn't until Dorik considered names of dwarf heroes that Ragnorn showed any interest. When Dorik began listing the Dwarf Kings in backwards order, Ragnorn stopped him when he mentioned Ragnorn. Dorik sensed the question before Ragnorn asked, and he told him about the dead King. Most notably, the story of how Ragnorn defended his village from an Urgal attack. Before the clan leader was bestowed with the title of King, he was visiting his home in a small dwarf village on the outskirts of the Beor Mountains. An Urgal raiding party attempted to ransack the village, but Ragnorn stood up to them. With only a small entourage of guards, the dwarf king slew a score of Urgals before a detachment of the army came to chase the remainder out.

Dorik had feared that the origin of Ragnorn's name might cause trouble with Nar Vogden, but in fact it seemed to have the opposite effect. The young Urgal saw the story as a badge of honor for Ragnorn. Dorik was unsure how Vogden bonded with Landran, but knew that the Urgal was immensely proud of the accomplishment.

As the ship they'd sailed on neared the coast of the island, Dorik climbed onto Ragnorn. He looked around for the Captain of the ship, then saw the tall dark haired elf. "No need for boats, Captain. Ragnorn and I will fly in with Vogden and Landran. Are there any supplies we can lift?" The elf captain quickly shook his head, insisting that his crew could handle the offloading on their own. Dorik nodded, and signaled to Vogden. Ragnorn and Landran both pushed off with their hind legs, and the ship rocked beneath them. Then he was in the air, and Dorik rejoiced at the feel of the wind and the tensing of Ragnorns muscles beneath his legs.

_Are you nervous?_ Dorik asked Ragnorn. He could sense a pause as Ragnorn thought about the question. _Yes, I am. Eragon Shadeslayer, Son of Brom is a great and powerful Rider. Saphira is the oldest dragon alive, and is known for being devious in aerial combat. I only hope that we will live up to their expectations. _Dorik shared his fears. _But we have no other choice. There are only five Riders left in existence, and we are the most junior of them all. Even if Vogden has only been a Rider for a few more days than us, he still is several years our senior._ Ragnorn gave a short growl at his words. They brought the conversation to a close as they landed in a clearing where Eragon and Saphira waited for them, with Arya and Fírnen at their side.

Ragnorn landed roughly, and Dorik slid out of his saddle landing hard. He was still a little awkward at dismounting from Ragnorn, for the dragon was much larger. Vogden jumped off Landran, and the two of them completed the circle of Riders.

It was a few moments before Eragon spoke, and when he did his voice was low and resonated throughout the clearing.

"Look around you. We are the next order of Dragon Riders, our mission to traverse Alagaesia and fight tyranny. Every race we fight to protect has a representative on this island, an event that has never before been seen. From here on out, everything we do will make history. When you leave this island, it is my hope that you will be true Riders. Riders that would make the dragonborne heroes of old proud."

A chill raced through Dorik's body at Eragon's words. He had yet to find a way to handle that as a Dwarf Rider, he would already be remembered long after death. He didn't dwell on the thought however, for Eragon was not finished speaking.

"I will teach you to fight with magic, to communicate with all that lives. I will teach you to care for each other. Saphira will teach you to breath fire, and to evade combatants in the sky. But there are some things that you will need to learn, that we can not teach you."

Dorik's mind raced as he thought of the training he would take part in. The prospect of what was to come. Eragon looked at Dorik, Ragnorn, Vogden, and Landran. His eyes piercing.

"You will need honor. Integrity. Respect. Humility. And most importantly, judgment. You must be capable of making the right decision, no matter how tired you may feel. Those seeking advice will ask you questions that will influence their lives. It does not matter if you just fought off a Shade, you must give their requests due consideration. One word from you will change an entire family, and you must never fall to ill temper."

"These things you must learn for yourselves. Saphira and I will try to set you on the right track, but history has shown that even the wisest teachers can be incapable of saving those on the wrong path."

At this, Eragon stopped and looked down, the sadness on his face as plain as words on a page. Saphira sniffed a puff of smoke, and spoke in his stead. Dorik could detect a twinge of sadness in her own voice.


	2. Chapter 2

_Eragon and I have had the honor of being taught by two of the bravest, and wisest Riders to ever grace Alagaesia. We will pass their lessons onto you, and in time, you will help teach the next Rider, wherever they may rise._

Eragon put an affectionate hand on Saphira's shoulder and spoke again. "I will now show you to the main Citadel, where you will choose your quarters. Choose wisely, for it will be your homes for centuries to come." The four bonded pairs moved back along the river in silence, pondering what had been said.

Dorik finished unpacking and looked about his room. It was a simple thing, tucked away in one of the caves under the main Citadel. A tube of hollowed glass led from his bedroom up to the sky, casting sunlight into the small multi-room affair. One room was large enough for a dragon, with a tunnel that was designed to allow a dragon to fly to and from the surface. The second room was a bedroom, with an opening large enough for a dragon to rest its head without having to strain to see its Rider.

The bedroom led to two other rooms. One was a study, and the other equipped with the same utilities as were in Ellesmera. He was pleased to be able to bathe again, for he had been unable to do so during the voyage. Dorik examined his meager belongings. What he had with him was not everything he owned, for he had left much of it with his mother in Farthen Dur. But what he had brought, he now pulled from his rucksack.

First was the battleaxe forged for him by order of King Orik. While he used his sword, Garjzla, as his main weapon, he was loathe to be rid of the axe. He hoped one day to have the elf smith Rhunon forge an axe of brightsteel, though he knew of her oath never again to create a weapon. Dorik placed the axe on a table, and laid out Garjzla and its scabbard next to it.

Dorik then placed what few items of clothing he owned in the wardrobe in the bedroom, and neatly organized his battle-armor next to it. Now satisfied, Dorik walked into the dragons nest, and sat next to Ragnorn.

_What do you think of this all?_ He asked. _I think it will be a lot to take in. With the recent uprising of sorcerers, I think Alagaesia will need us soon. We must learn as fast as possible, so that we may be as ready as we can be to face whatever threat is coming. _Ragnorn said. Dorik agreed, and began practicing some of the magic taught to him by spellcasters in Ellesmera.

Eragon walked down to the beach shore to meet the crew of the elf ship. Blodgharm and the other spellcasters who had set out to aid Eragon would be returning, this time to stay. When they first arrived at this island, Eragon sent them back with the ship to tell Arya where they could find him. He had wanted the time alone with Saphira to decide what they would do. Eragon was confident that with the added help of the two new Riders, as well as the spell casters he would finish construction on the Citadel within days. He would use the construction as part of the training with the Riders, to help them learn and expand their limits. He was unsure how much they had already been taught, but he wanted to know firsthand rather than listen to their descriptions. The risk of losing a Rider to overuse of magic was too high if he did anything else.

Eragon greeted the crew with open arms, and invited them to dine with him. He didn't have much in the way of food and drink, but he was willing to offer what he could to the elves. The Captain politely declined his invitation however, explaining that he and his crew really needed to return to Alagaesia as fast as possible. Eragon nodded, and gave the Captain several letters he wished delivered.

"Captain, I have a favor to ask of you." Eragon said. The Captain looked at him intently, and nodded. "Anything, Shur'tugal." he said. Eragon smiled gratefully. "If this is to be the new home of the Dragon Riders, we cannot rely on ships to ferry us to and from Alagaesia. I mean no disrespect. I am grateful for the help of the elves in this matter so far. On your way here, did you see the islands scattered admist us and Alagaesia?" The Captain thought for moment, then nodded. "Aye Shadeslayer, I did."

"Okay, then I would request that upon reaching port, you send ships back out to construct towers at the three largest islands. They are scattered in such a way that they would provide efficient areas for a dragon to rest. Older dragons might be capable of flying the distance in a single flight, but even they would be hard pressed to do so. And even the strongest dragon couldn't do it in a storm. But if there were towers on these islands, Riders could stop to rest or wait out bad weather. I have already spoken to Arya on the matter, and she has agreed. She will provide any funding necessary for the operation, though it will be up to you to manage the construction. With the exception of the Riders, you are the only one who knows the way from Alagaesia. I would like it to stay that way, if at all possible."

The Captain understood at once why Eragon was asking him. "Shadeslayer, would you have the towers manned as well?" Eragon thought about the question for a moment. "Yes, Captain. The towers will also serve as a communication network, so that we may know if something goes amiss in Alagaesia."

The Captain agreed, and the two continued to discuss the details of the expedition. Finally when the last problem was pinned down, and the crates of supplies were unloaded from the ship, the Captain prepared to leave. Arya and Fírnen said their good-byes to Eragon, and the two young Riders before leaving. Eragon wondered how long it would be until he saw them again.

Dorik watched until the ship was far out into the ocean, then turned and flew with Ragnorn back to the Citadel. Eragon and Saphira were still on the beach, while Nar Vogden and Landran were a few miles further inland. The elf spellcasters raced on the ground below. Silence prevailed throughout the island.

The three Riders, as well as the dragons and elves all dined together that night. Eragon set out a feast from both the food he'd managed to grow himself, as well as some of the rations the elves had dropped off for him. Dorik was surprised to see a roasted boar, but did not complain. The last meat Dorik had eaten had been in Farthen Dur, and that felt like it was an eternity ago.

The pork was juicy with a strange blend of spices that Dorik had never tasted before. It gave it a savory texture, and was perfectly complimented by the fruit salads and rice cakes that lay about it. When Dorik asked about the boar, Eragon grinned broadly. "Before I left to Ellesmera, I was treated to the best meat I'd ever eaten at the dwarf city of Tarnag. I wasn't able to perfectly replicate the recipe, but I thought you might appreciate as close to a taste of home as I could provide."

Eragon looked apologetically at Vogden and added, "I'm afraid I've only ever eaten with an Urgal once, and as such I was not sure how to help you settle in. I hope this is to your liking?" Vogden gave a low guttural laugh, and spoke for the first time during the meal. "The boar is just right, master. I would relish scorched sparrow, a taste that I have had the misfortune to endure on several occasions, if it would mean I did not have to eat the leaves and fruits of the elves. No disrespect, fur-coat. Besides, it tastes like Nagra, a boar that we Urgals often eat." Eragon grimaced at being called master. Blodgharm merely tilted his head towards Vogden in response to being mentioned, before returning to his meal.

"I'm not so sure I like to be called master. You can call me anything you wish, just try to refrain from making me out to be a grey old man." Vogden considered his words before responding. "So it will be, Shadeslayer." Eragon looked to Dorik, who nodded.

Dorik was a heavy eater, and was used to eating more than most. He realized now that Vogden had indeed shown a distaste for the meals the elves served, and had eaten little. But now, the Urgal dispatched easily half of the boar carcass himself. Even the dragons were surprised at the amount he ate, though Eragon did not even bat an eye.

When the meal was over, Eragon stood up and looked at those seated around him. Dorik leaned against Ragnorn's foreleg, and watched.

"Tomorrow, we begin training. Ragnorn, Landran, meet with Saphira in that clearing." He pointed towards a large open swath of land. "Vogden, you will start with magic. Blodgharm will meet you here, and teach you what he will at his own discretion. Dorik, you and I will begin sparring. At midmorning, we will switch. Come lunch, I will teach you both. If any of us still has any energy by then, I would like to continue construction of the Citadel." Dorik and Vogden both nodded, while Ragnorn and Landran grunted their understanding. Blodgharm remained expressionless. Eragon gave a quick grin. "All right then. Good night, and good luck."

Dorik awoke at dawn, the soft morning light shining through the glass in the roof. He rose and donned the soft brown tunic and breaches that he'd trained in in Ellesmera. He belted Garzjla to his waste, and pulled his boots on. Ragnorn was already awake, and waiting for Dorik to get ready. Dorik could feel Ragnorn's excitement, and found it to be nearly overwhelming. _This is exciting._ The dragon said in his low gravelly voice. _Yes indeed. Be careful training with Saphira. I don't want you to accidentally get hurt._

Ragnorn grunted disdainfully at his words, and leapt out of the cave. Dorik laughed at the sound, and raced out of his room towards groundlevel. He skidded to a halt in the middle of the main hall, and saw that the tables had been moved against the walls. Eragon was in the middle of the room, executing a series of complex stretches. Dorik recognized the patterns, and began a summarized version of the ones he found most effective. He thought he caught Eragon eye him when he skipped stretching some muscles that Dorik never used, but then Eragon's eyes returned to their idle wandering.

When they were both finished, Eragon wiped himself down with a towel and moved to stand in the center of the hall, motioning for Dorik to join him. Eragon drew his blade, and began to place the necessary enchantments. Dorik drew his own blade, and blunted the edges to match Eragon.


	3. Chapter 3

Dorik stood warily, his blade at his side. Eragon stood straight as the sword he held before him. Dorik was unsure whether the duel had yet to start, or if Eragon was going to speak to him first. By the way Eragon's eyes seemed to flick across Dorik, examining his posture, Dorik decided that Eragon was taking a direct approach to the exercise.

Upon reaching this realization, Dorik raised Garzjla and studied Eragon. Dorik waited for the older Rider to make the first move. There was a moments pause as the two remained still, then Eragon struck with blinding speed. Dorik managed to block the blade, jarring the bones in his arms. Blue and bronze blades slid up and down each other, then Eragon flicked his wrist. Garzjla flew out of Dorik's hand, and Eragon flicked his sword back to Dorik's neck. "Get your blade, and we will try again."

Eragon's words were neutral. There was no scorn in them, but Dorik still burned with shame. He strode over to where Garzjla lay, and picked it up. The bronze blade was unscratched.

Eragon locked eyes with Dorik, and again made the first move. But this time he moved slower, gradually speeding up as Dorik parried and counter struck. Dorik realized that this time, Eragon was measuring Dorik's skill. Calling upon every lesson he'd learned, both in Farthen Dur and in Ellesmera, Dorik fought back. Dorik never landed a blow on Eragon, though he himself endured many welts and bruises.

At one particularly intense moment, Dorik managed to disarm Eragon. It was as much a surprise to Dorik as it was to Eragon, and Dorik was entirely unsure how he'd done it. Eragon leapt over Dorik and landed in a roll, coming up with his sword back in his hand.

The two dueled for what seemed like hours. Dorik began to realize that Eragon was making sure he used every muscle that he'd failed to stretch. Dorik would not make the same mistake again, for already his neglected muscles were beginning to cramp.

Finally, when Dorik's blade felt as heavy as Ragnorn himself, Eragon brought the duel to a close. Dorik was drenched in sweat, though when he snuck a look at Eragon he was annoyed to see that the man-elf had barely begun to perspire.

"You fight well, Dorik. If not a little reckless." Eragon stated, as he drew water from the well. Dorik ruefully rubbed a few welts that he knew wouldn't be there had he kept his guard up, and gratefully accepted the ladle of water from Eragon. "Thank you, master." Eragon twitched an eyebrow at the remark, but refrained to mention his adversity to the title.

"Today I sought only to learn your limit, which I admit is greater than I imagined. You are stronger than most, and need only learn control and patience. Speed and endurance will come with time." Dorik accepted the advice without comment, pouring the remainder of the water over his head. The cool liquid was refreshing, though his muscles still hurt.

Eragon gave a short laugh as he saw Dorik rubbing his muscles, and said "Ah yes, you neglected to complete the Rimgar. I remember well the time my old master taught to me the Dance of Snake and Crane. It may seem a foolish set of poses, but I assure you it makes combat considerably easier." Dorik did not doubt his words. The cramps in his lower back and his calves were evidence enough of what he said. Dorik looked at the sun, and saw that it was close to mid-morning. Eragon looked at the sun as well, and looked towards a door in the back of the hall.

"You will be tested by Blodgharm soon enough. Was he one of the elves who trained you in magic in Ellesmera?" Eragon asked. Dorik shook his head, and immediately stopped as his neck popped after the previous strain.

"No, he and the other spell-casters spent most of their time traveling Alagaesia with Arya, quelling sorcerer uprisings. I have yet to receive any form of training in magic, though I spent many days reading of it in the elf city. I know of its language and its limits, but have been unable to call upon the ability for anything beyond lifting a stone."

A look of concern crossed Eragon's face, but was replaced by the usual smile so quickly, Dorik wondered if he had imagined it.

"I think you will find that the Citadel here courses with as much magic, if not more, than Ellesmera. You will find that you are stronger here than anywhere else. Should an enemy ever attack us here, they will not have such an advantage." Dorik was confused by Eragon's words. Nothing he had read explained such a spell.

"How is that possible, master? There has not been time enough for the spells that lay around Du Weldenvarden, and I know of no ward that would do what you say." Eragon turned his gaze back upon Dorik, and paused a moment before speaking. "You are not yet far enough along in your training for me to explain it to you, Dorik. But in time, things will become clear." The answer confused Dorik even more, but before he could press the issue the door Eragon had been studying burst open.

Vogden strode out, a look of frustration evident on his face. Despite the exasperation that obviously coursed through the small Urgal, Dorik thought he looked pale. His skin was more white than grey, and his underdeveloped horns seemed to shake. Dorik swallowed hard as he imagined what could possibly set an Urgal on edge, and started when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Eragon smiled reassuringly at him, and guided him towards the door. "Not to worry, Dorik. You'll find Blodgharm to be most instructive. After all, today is just a test of skills."

What Eragon referred to as a simple test of Dorik's skills turned out to be far more taxing than the previous duel had been. Blodgharm sat cross legged on a table, which with the exception of a simple wooden chair was the only furniture to adorn the room. Dorik nervously sat down in the chair, and eyed the fur-covered cat-elf.

"Transfer the water from the full tub to the empty tub." said Blodgharm. Confused, Dorik looked around the room. Then he saw what he had missed upon his first inspection. Behind the elf were two tubs. One was slightly higher than the other, with a tube that lead from it to the one on ground level. The lower one was filled to the brim with water, while the higher one was bone dry. A small ladle similar to what Dorik used to drink from the well lay alongside the tub.

Dorik picked up the ladle and filled it from the full tub, then poured it into the empty one. Before he could fill it again, the water drained into the tube and poured back into the first container. Dorik tried again, this time immediately filling the ladle up again and pouring it in with the first spoonful. But the water drained faster than he could transfer it, and soon Dorik grew frustrated. After ten minutes of the exercise, he looked back at Blodgharm to see if the elf had any further instruction. The blue coated spell-caster merely stared at Dorik impassively, his face betraying nothing. Dorik grumbled to himself and turned back to the tubs, studying the situation. If he could somehow block the tube, he could fill the tub. He toyed with the idea of using the ladle to block it, but quickly discarded it. He needed the ladle to transfer the water. When no further ideas came to him, Dorik tried again to ladle the water into the tub, and quickly began to grow enraged at both the task, and his inability to come up with a solution.

Vogden dulled his blade, a large two handed broadsword, and eyed Eragon. He'd renamed his blade Celöbra, Honor. The elves had manipulated the handle to match his fighting style, and the massive weapon was now like an extension of his body. Vogden was at first saddened, for the blade had been a pale orange, far different from the deep purple of Landran's hide. But upon seeing the blade, Landran had touched it with his nose. The brightsteel had rippled, and the color swirled until it matched the hue of Landran's brightest scales. Rhunon, keeper of the Riders Blades, had been unsurprised. The magic of Dragons, she had said, was still a mystery.

Vogden cleared his mind of all thoughts of the blades origin, and instead eyed the older Dragon Rider. Vogden reveled in the experience. Originally raised by humans after being found by a group of trappers, Vogden grew up an outcast. When one day he was located by a tribe of his own kind, they did not accept him for he did not think as an Urgal. It did not help that he was underdeveloped. He was merely the size of a tall man, and wasn't much stronger. His horns were the source of most of his discomfort, however. They were small compared to most Urgals, and were the source of much scorn.

He was never even supposed to have been near Landran's egg, for he was not a warrior of suitable honor. He had simply entered the tent to speak with Nar Garzvog, whom had adopted Vogden when he was discovered with the human trappers. The egg hatched, much to the surprise of everyone in the tent. When Landran touched Vogden's palm, the elder Urgalgra nearly caused an uproar. They were not happy that Vogden was the first Rider of the Urgralgra. It was only the words of Nar Garzvog that stopped bloodshed from occuring, when he reminded them all that with the egg having hatched nothing could be done.

Traveling to Ellemera, Vogden found comfort only with Landran. For though the Elves were always respectful, Vogden was aware that they did not understand why Eragon had allowed Urgals to bond with Dragons. He was an outcast, though for yet a third set of reasons. The humans feared him because they feared Urgals. The Urgals scorned him because he was too human. And the Elves shunned him because they found his culture to be too battle driven. Even knowing of Urgralgra culture, many elves still shunned him.

But now, Vogden realized that he just might find a home in the Citadel, with his fellow Riders. There were too few inhabitants of the island for anyone to shun another, and with the exception of the Elves and the Dragons, each individual was the sole representative of their race. Dorik seemed to almost like Vogden, and Eragon had made it apparent that he bore no ill will to Vogden's race.

For the first time that Vogden knew, he was treated as an equal by more than just Landran. Vogden promised himself that he would do nothing to jeopardize his new home.

He was knocked from his memories by a sudden move from Eragon. The Rider was swinging in low with his sword, ready to land a blow across Vogden's lower legs. Vogden leapt back, bringing Celöbra to bare. Having missed in his first attack, Eragon began a second sequence of maneuvers. Vogner realized the intent was to gauge his training, and he relished the prospect. Nar Garzvog himself had trained Vogner in weaponry, and it was the one aspect in which he had risen above other Urgralgra in his clan. Before Landran, it was his only hope for a potential mate and he took every opportunity he could to train. Now, he found himself using every move and countermove he knew, desperate to prove himself to Eragon.

Dorik could hear the clanging of steel against steel as Eragon and Vogner crossed blades, and just from the sound of the battle he could tell that Vogner was a better warrior than he. He scowled, and turned back to the tubs. He still had yet to come up with a solution, and now he was distracted by the duel raging outside.

Suddenly the sound stopped, and Dorik turned back to see Blodgharm placing an enchantment across the door. The spell would prevent any noise from distracting Dorik. Seeing the elf use magic gave Dorik an idea, and he cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. The entire purpose of entering this room had been to test his ability to use magic, and yet he'd been attempting to transfer the liquid using mundane means.

Dork cast his mind back to all the scrolls and books he had read in which he learned words in the ancient language. He could speak the words fluently, but he was still weak in magic. But he remembered Eragon's words, and searched for the barrier that signified magic. He found the small nub of pressure, and shattered it, allowing the power to flow through his mind and body.

He picked the right words, and gazed at the tub of water. "Thrysta adurna!" He cried. The water compressed into a tight ball, and he sensed rather than saw Blodgharm shift to watch what Dorik was doing. The spell was taxing, but Dorik poured all his frustration into the magic. He felt as if the very air around him thrummed with magic, and he used the power he felt coursing through his veins. "Reisa du adurna!" The ball of water raised, and he moved over to the second tub, releasing the magic as soon as was possible. He fell to the floor, exhausted. The magic had drained him more than he'd imagined.

He looked back at Blodgharm, and the furry elf stood, extending a hand to help Dorik up. "That was most dangerous, young Rider." Blodgharm said. His voice was rich and musical, and Dorik could smell the musty scent wafting from the magician. "It seemed the correct thing to do, master." Dorik stated. Blodgharm nodded once, and turned to leave the room. "That is all I wish to see from you today, Dorik. Let us go and see how Vogden is doing with Eragon." The two left the room, and as they crossed the threshold of the door the sound of Eragon and Vogden's duel once again filled the air.

Vogden was exhausted, but he did not dare show it. Eragon's blows were fast and deadly, raining down on Vogden's defenses. He blocked the cuts, dodged the stabs, and evaded the whirls. Occasionally Vogden would find a moment of respite, and launch a flurry of his own attacks. It was difficult for Vogden to move quickly, and Eragon always either blocked or dodged Vogden's attacks. A flicker of movement distracted Vogden, and he saw Dorik and Blodgharm leave the room. He wondered if Dorik had discovered a way to move the water, but did not have time to ponder the question for Eragon took the opportunity to launch a complicated series of blows that hammered against Vogden's defenses.

He soon found himself unable to move quickly enough to block Eragon's blade, and more and more blows landed on his legs, arms, and torso. Finally Eragon signaled for Vogden to stop, and the Vogden sheathed his blade, and knelt panting. Eragon was barely sweating, and handed Vogden a ladle of water.

Dorik clapped Vogden on the shoulder, congratulating him on the duel. "That was most impressive. Best fight I've seen since I witnessed Eragon fight Murtagh on the Burning Plains." Vogden felt a swirl of pride replace his fatigue, though he knew that Eragon could have ended the fight at any point in the duel, had it been his intention.

Eragon conferred with Blodgharm while Dorik and Vogden told each other of their respective mornings. Dorik was pleased to know that Vogden hadn't been able to figure out the water puzzle, though he didn't say so. Instead he told Vogden that he was impressed at how capable a swordsman the Urgal was, explaining that Dorik was far less skilled.

Eragon approached the two trainees with a pleased expression. "You two are much farther along than I anticipated, though you still have much to learn. Tomorrow, you will begin the day by dueling with each other, then you will split up to practice magic. One of the most important parts of learning is being able to teach, and I expect you two will be able to learn much from each other. For now however, we must eat."

Dorik and Vogden sat at the table, and one of the elves that accompanied them from Ellesmera brought in food. Dorik knew that it was why the elf had come, though he also knew that the elf was a skilled magician as well as being well versed in the art of swordsplay. They used fresh bread to mop up a stew of mushrooms, potatoes, and carrots with a blending of spices that must have been native to the island, then washed it all down with cold clear water. Dorik longed for mead from his home, but was content with the clear liquid.

After they finished eating, Eragon looked to Dorik. "So, Dorik. Tell me. What happens, the higher you fly?" Dorik stared at Eragon, confused. "You see more of your surroundings?" His voice trailed off as he saw that his guess was inaccurate. Eragon looked at Vogden. "What is the appropriate maneuver to engage in when an enemy dragon flies above you?"

Vogden looked as lost as Dorik felt, and Eragon shook his head. "Neither one of you have been communicating with your dragons, have you?" Dorik shook his head, mystified. He hadn't communicated with Ragnorn since early morning. Eragon gave a sigh. "I made the same mistake in the early days of my training, though I hoped it was a lesson you might have already learned." Dorik was unsure of what lesson Eragon was referring to, or even what mistake he'd made.

Eragon looked at the two Riders, and finally clarified. "You must remain connected to your dragons at all times. I am afraid there is not enough time for us to teach you many of these lessons separately. Even if there was, we still would not do so. You must learn to live in harmony with your dragon, for it can provide an advantage in every field of combat, be it political or physical." Dorik nodded, shamefaced.

"Now, let us call for them to return. There is a task I would like completed." Eragon said, the ever-familiar grin once again crossing his face. The three Riders contacted their dragons, and called them back. Dorik found that Saphira had already asked the two what their Riders had learned, and that Ragnorn was as mortified as he. Dorik quickly filled Ragnorn in on what had transpired throughout the morning, and Ragnorn responded in kind. Upon hearing the news of Dorik's use of magic, Ragnorn congratulated him. Though Ragnorn told Dorik all about wing spans, angles of attack, and aerial maneuvers, Dorik still found himself confused about what Ragnorn had learned. _Perhaps if you were to fly with me more often, you would understand better._ Ragnorn said with a slight edge to his voice. Dorik knew Ragnorn was correct, though he still was unsure he wanted to fly. He found that Ragnorn was too broad for Dorik to sit comfortably, and he was loathe to mention the shortcomings of his smaller legs to Eragon. Ragnorn sighed angrily as Dorik mentioned it. _Our future opponents will not care that you feel too short to ride me. Now ask Eragon what you should do before it is used against us._ Knowing Ragnorn was right, Dorik brought the question up.

Eragon gave a look of surprise at Dorik's question. "Why didn't you mention this to Arya? It would be a simple manner to craft a saddle that would allow you to sit more comfortably astride Ragnorn." Dorik, unable to give a good answer to Eragon's question, looked down at his empty plate. "After dinner, I will show you both how to craft saddles. I suspect the standard elf and human saddles will not be good enough, so we may need to manipulate the leather a bit." Dorik thanked Eragon, and felt a Ragnorn laugh quietly. _I told you it would be fine._

Dorik muttered under his breath, though he was relieved at the news. He enjoyed flying with Ragnorn, and now that the prospect of overly stretched legs was no longer an issue, he could fly more comfortably.

Eragon lead the other Riders and magicians out of the main hall, and they watched as the three dragons flew in to land.

Saphira led the way, her sapphire scales gleaming brilliantly in the sun. To her right flew Ragnorn, the smallest of the three dragons. The light sparkled off of his bronze body in a brilliant fashion, making it seem as though Ragnorn's very scales sucked in what light was around him. Landran flew to Saphira's left. He was already nearly as large as Fírnen, though Saphira was still considerably more massive. He glittered with a purple hue, as though the setting sun had blended with the blue sky, to create a dragon. The three approaching dragons made for a beautiful sight, and Dorik found tears filling his eyes.

After the dragons landed, Eragon turned and looked at the half finished Citadel. Dorik followed his gaze, and for the first time truly examined the building.

The base of the building was massive, and shaped like an octagon. It was sang entirely out of the wood of the trees, though Eragon stated that he would eventually enlist the help of the dwarves to replace the wood with stone. The Citadel reached up a hundred feet, with branches curving out to form landing areas for the Dragons. Each landing pad lead to one of the dozens of dwellings, similar to where Dorik himself slept. Two of the sides had gaping holes that Dorik realized must lead to the underground cave system. Dorik wondered how many tunnels lead to the two exits, and realized that it was not a permanent solution. If more dragons were to arrive, they would be unable to come and go comfortably without running the risk of colliding with one another.

Eragon gave a sigh and looked at Dorik and the others. "Unfortunately, this is all just a temporary arrangement. I sent a message to Kings Orik and Orrin, and Queens Nasuada and Arya. I will need the help of all four of their nations to help me build the true Citadel of the Dragon Riders. But for now, I would have you all aid me in the construction of the outer dwellings." Dorik was confused by Eragon's words.

"Master, what is wrong with what you have created so far? And what will come of it?" Dorik asked. Eragon looked at him, and frowned unhappily. "As proud as I am of what I have constructed, I fear it is far from what I wanted. I thought I would be able to build this by my own hand, but the scale that a Citadel of Riders requires is far greater than I had originally imagined." Dorik felt as if Eragon's response did not entirely answer his question.

"With the help of the Elves, I will sing the Citadel into that which it should be. Then with the Dwarves, I will encase it in an armor of stone and iron, so that it may withstand attack. Then with aid from the Bloddring and Surdan kingdoms, we will furnish the Citadel."

"So to answer your question, Dorik. I miscalculated. That which I have created thus far will stay, but it will be added to. The Captain who guided your ship here is already under way to search for volunteers who will aid me. While we wait for them to arrive, I wish to teach you to sing wood into shape. There are still many dwellings we can create ourselves."

Dorik accepted Eragon's answer, though he was unsure if he had been given the entire truth. The rest of the afternoon was spent learning how to weave magic into song, and Dorik realized that it would be several days before they would be able to actually accomplish what Eragon wanted done.

Eragon ended the lesson as the sun was setting, and sent the young Riders back to their rooms with orders to rest. He could tell that Dorik didn't think his explanation of what was wrong with the Citadel was enough. But the young Rider was not ready to learn of the Eldunari. For it was them who had designed the Citadel, and it was Glaedr who had eventually told Eragon that they did indeed need help. Eragon came up with the idea of asking aid from all the races, for he did not want it to appear that he favored any particular race. It troubled him that the Eldunari had miscalculated their power. They were originally confident that Eragon would be able to construct the Citadel by himself, drawing on their combined energy. But their mental state had become worse over time. That very morning, during his duel with Dorik, a number of them had suddenly screamed their pain and sorrow. They caused no harm, but it had taken several minutes for the elves to subdue them. That was part of the reason he had requested the aid of the Elves, for he hoped that they could send healers to help ease the fallen dragon's torment.

Saphira touched his mind, and her presence eased his tensions. _Training these younglings reminds me of Brom and Oromis._ She said, her deep voice chasing away all other thoughts. _I agree. I don't feel like myself when I train them, Saphira. I find myself speaking with Oromis's words, and keeping secrets just like Brom_. And it was true. Eragon found it easier to teach the apprentice Riders the way he himself had been taught. _Perhaps it is for the best, Eragon. Everything we know we learned from Brom and Oromis. We should try to preserve our memory of them as best we can, by passing on their lessons. _Eragon smiled sadly as he remembered his old mentors. _Sometimes, Saphira, you are wise beyond your years._ Saphira scoffed. _Only sometimes?_

Dinner that night was a far simpler affair, compared to the night before. A simple salad was the main course, with bread and ale on the side. Eragon insisted on serving meat as well, much to the chagrin of the elves. When Blodgharm objected, Eragon simply said "I will allow Dorik and Vogner to decide for themselves what they will and will not eat. It is not my place to do so."

After they had finished eating, Eragon took the young Riders into a side room, where piles of leather and other material lay in containers or were stacked on tables. Eragon had already selected a pile of material perfectly cut and shaped to make a saddle. "There are two different types of saddles for Dragons. The first is the simple leather affair which I see that you two already use. Arya told me, however, that you did not make them yourselves. While I admire the courtesy of the elves, this is a skill that you must learn." Eragon then had each Rider select leather strips, and proceeded to show them how to make the simple thin saddles, designed only to provide protection between the Rider and the scales of his dragon. Eragon helped them both adjust the design to fit their respective sizes, and soon they both had a saddle designed to fit them more comfortably.

After examining his saddle, Dorik looked to Eragon. "You said there were two saddles, master?" Eragon sighed inwardly at being called 'master', but finally decided it couldn't be helped. "Yes. The second is a far more complex affair. It is molded to be much more comfortable, and is what you will wear should you ever fly into combat." Eragon gestured towards several unopened containers. "All the materials you will need lie within those crates. Over the course of your training, I will help you create your saddles. When Arya returns to bring you back to Alagaesia, they should be long finished. Now, it is late and I am tired. It is time that I retire. You two can fly with Ragnorn and Landran if you wish, although I would suggest getting as much sleep as you can. Tomorrow will not be as easy as today."

Dorik immediately saddled Ragnorn, and the two flew into night sky. Half of this island is desert. It's like flying through the Hadarac Desert again! Ragnorn quivered with excitement, intoxicating Dorik with his happiness. The two had crossed a section of the great Desert on their way to Ellesmera, and Ragnorn had loved flying through it. Dorik wondered how large the island was, and when he asked Ragnorn began to talk excitedly. _It's very large! The Citadel lies in the middle of the forest. The river that wraps around it leads from a lake set in the middle of the desert, and leads to the ocean. The outer edge of the entire island is part of the forest, but the middle is a ring of sand and heat. There stands only one mountain, though it is much smaller than the Beors. Saphira and Landran said it was closer to the size of the Spine, though I don't know for sure. _Ragnorn continued to talk excitedly as they flew around the island. It was small enough that Ragnorn could cover the entire scope of the terrain in just an hour at the excited speed that he was flying, but it was large enough that Dorik knew it would take him several days to walk across it.

When the reached the far side of the island, Ragnorn landed beside the river and drank in several great quaffs of liquid. Do you want to see how fast we can go? We've never had real reason to push the speed. Ragnorn said. Dorik smiled at the idea, and clambered back up into the saddle. He strapped his legs in, and opened his mind to Ragnorn. I want to experience this the way you do. He told him. Ragnorn merged his mind with Dorik's, and the change was extraordinary. Eragon had mentioned it briefly as they made the saddles, and Dorik had wanted to try it ever since.

All the colors became sharper, and it seemed as if the setting sun cast its brilliant rays farther than before. Dorik felt as if his senses were increased tenfold, then suddenly felt his rear legs tense, ready to leap into the air. He leapt into the air and was flapping his wings vigorously, working up speed. He was already shooting through the air by the time he realized that he didn't have wings, and that it was Ragnorn who was flying. Dorik yelled with exhilaration as they sped across the island. When they reached the lake, Ragnorn dived deep into the water. They raced past the lakes inhabitants, then twisted and shot back out.

Lake water cascaded off of them as they flew back into the sky. Ragnorn was right about the desert, Dorik realized. The air was perfect for flying. They soared through the air, increasing speed with every flap. Ragnorn's movements became more labored, and they began to slow down, but not before they arrived at the Citadel in half the time it had taken them to fly to the other side. Ragnorn glided gently down to the ground, diving into the hole and landing with a soft whoomph in their shared apartments. Dorik pulled his mind back into his own consciousness, and rolled out of the saddle. That was amazing! He cried, his heart still racing. _Yes, little one, now you know what it is like to be a dragon. _Dorik staggered into his room, drunk on adrenaline from the flight. He unbelted Garzjla, and set it on the table next to his armor. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, and started to unlace his boots.

Dorik woke with a start, his clothes still on. Ragnorn opened one sleepy eye and gave a low resonate gurgle of laughter. _You were asleep the moment you touched your bed. I tried to wake you so you could properly undress, but you sleep sounder than the stone your kind lives under. _Dorik rubbed his eyes and stood up, eyeing the wrinkles in his clothes with distaste. They were stiff with sweat from the previous day. He pulled them off and replaced them with charcoal grey breeches and a black shirt, and tightened the laces of his boots. "I'm stiff as a board." He grumbled out loud, causing a chuckle to rumble from Ragnorn's depths. My wings ache from last nights flight. The words brought the memory of the melding of the minds, and the speed at which they had flown the night before. The happy memory caused all thoughts of discomfort to leave Dorik's mind, and he set out to begin the days training with a far happier attitude than when he awoke.


	4. Chapter 4

Sasha Firemane strode through the cathedral, cape billowing. The sword in her hand dripping blood. Two monks rushed out to meet her, gripping staffs in their hands. "Come no further, sorceress." The taller monk cried, his bald head glistening with sweat. The other monk adjusted his stance, preparing to fight Sasha. She glared at the two robed monks. When they refused to move, she cast out to the spirits and barked a spell. "Thrysta!" The short monk flew backwards, slamming into a table. Sasha could hear his back break. The second monk paled, but did not flee.

Scowling impatiently, Sasha strode forward and brought her blade down upon the man. He raised his staff in a feeble attempt to block her blow, but with a barked command the weapon flew from his hands. She made no effort to divert her blow, and only sighed distastefully at the blood covered steel. She paused only to wipe the blood away, and continued towards her goal. The sorceress strode through the cathedral until she heard the sound of children weeping, then she paused, letting an evil smile spread across her face.

A month into their training, the ships arrived with volunteers to help construct the Citadel. Stone workers from King Orik mined from the single mountain on the island, shipping the solid rock back to the Citadel to form the exterior of the massive building. Elf magicians sang a song of the Ancient Language, pouring their power into the trees around them. The Citadel grew into the shape that Eragon had designed. The Citadel was massive, with dozens of rooms for Riders and their Dragons alike, as well as a cave system that would shelter the inhabitants of the Citadel should the need arise. The sides of the eight sided building protruded with dozens of landing platforms. The top of the Citadel was open to the elements, though it was armed with ballista to fight off attacking dragons.

The Citadel was not the only building on the island. Several warehouses were constructed and filled with clothing, food, and the standard materials necessary for training Dragon Riders. Multiple other dwellings were sang into the trees of the forest, and roads were created to lead to the ocean shore, where a dock was constructed. Training fields for weapon proficiency sprung up on one side of the Citadel, while on the other a massive library was constructed. The entire city was designed to accommodate every race, from dwarves to dragons. It took three months to finish, but with the aid of hundreds of volunteers and the added advantage of magic, the new city of Dras Mor'Ranr, the city of peace, was created. Eragon knew that over time, as more and more eggs hatched, the city would have to be expanded. But for the time being, it was more than he had imagined possible.

Four months into their training, Dorik and Vogden were considerably more powerful than when they had first arrived at the Citadel. Dorik was of the two a much stronger magician. He excelled at manipulating the elements, but he was still exceptionally skilled at all forms of magic. Vogden, on the other hand, was an expert with his blade. He had excelled in his training so much that he was even able to beat some of the elves, though he still found himself less than a match for Eragon. His horns had finally grown in, granting the Urgal Rider a sense of self-worth that Eragon sensed he had previously lacked. The young warrior had also grown several feet during the months of training. The vigorous exercises kept Vogden in prime condition, and Eragon was confident that he would soon grow to the size of a Kull, though Vogden didn't believe it.

Eragon was immensely proud of the progress his two pupils had made. Their dragons had also fared well. They had both nearly doubled in size, and both had breathed fire. Saphira took pride in showing them how to manipulate their fire, and Eragon often found black husks of trees that had "caught fire of their own accord", so far as Saphira was concerned. After considering the matter carefully, Eragon finally decided that it was time to show the young Riders what they would be using their power to do.

Dorik and Vogden met Eragon in the grove of trees in which they meditated, wondering what it was their master wanted to teach them. Their other lessons for the day had been entirely cancelled, which was previously unheard of. Eragon sat crosslegged at the base of a tree, and motioned for the two Riders to join him.

"Each morning, I have had you meditate for several hours. Recently, you both completed the task correctly by expanding your minds to touch all life around you, rather than just individuals. I would like you to do that again. Become a part of every living thing around you."

Vogden and Dorik glanced at each other, then they both closed their eyes. Opening his mind, Dorik began expanding his focus. First the grass and insects immediately around him, then further. He felt Vogden's dark consciousness, then Eragon's. Both were closed to him, though he sensed that Eragon had more problems on his mind than he let on. He continued expanding, touching the minds of rabbits, birds, plants, and even a fox that prowled through the underbrush. When he reached the fox, he halted the expansion of his mind and began to take in all the new sensations that rushed across the minds of the lives around him.

He felt the joy of a bird as it sang its song and perched on a flower, he felt the fear of a rabbit as the fox stepped on its den. He felt the single minded purpose of the ants as they searched for food. He allowed himself to become connected to it all, reveling in the sensation. Then all at once, he felt a thousand hearts break. Everything he touched died. The grass withered, the fox fell to the ground. The rabbits squeaked once, then went still. The ants fell, their unfinished missions never to be completed. Dorik came back to reality with a gasp, terror clutching at him.

He felt as if he had just died a thousand times over, and opening his eyes, he realized that was very close to what had happened. Everything in a four foot radius around the three Riders was dead. The grass, insects, everything around him. By Vogden's own breathless reaction, and the sorrow that ruled Eragon's features, he knew he was not the only one to feel it. Then Eragon began to speak in a soft voice.

"Wherever you go, you must keep your mind open in that manner. You must be aware of all that is going on around you. You must do your best to make sure that you never allow death on a scale such as that to happen." Dorik looked at Eragon with horror as he realized that it had been he to kill all around them. "A Rider exists to protect life. Taking one unnecessarily is the greatest crime we can commit. Remember that even your most hated enemies has a reason to exist, and unless every other option has been pursued, and has failed, killing is your final resort, one that I hope neither one of you has to resort to in the near future."

"You must monitor all life around you in order to be a true Dragon Rider. And take me at my word, men and women will die in your presence. Do not take those deaths lightly, for to waste life is the greatest sin in which a Dragon Rider can partake. There will be those who seek to end the lives of others, and it will be up to you to stop them. But not all those you will fight are evildoers. Many believe they are fighting for what is right, and it will be up to you to decide whether they live or die. It is the greatest responsibility that can be bestowed on a living creature, and with great responsibility comes great consequence. So I repeat myself in the hopes that it might one day be what breaks through to you, and saves a life from an unnecessary end. Do not squander that which is most precious."

As Eragon finished speaking, he returned his gaze to the circle of death in a clear dismissal. Dorik thought he saw a tear run down Eragon's face before he turned away. Shaken, Dorik and Vogden walked slowly back to the Citadel. Looking back, Dorik saw Eragon whispering words of the Ancient Language to the forest around him, speeding the regrowth of that which he had killed. Vogner looked at Dorik grimly. "What have we gotten ourselves into, Dorik?" Dorik did not answer, though he shared Vogner's concern.

The final month of training was the most difficult month of Dorik's life. Every day he was pushed to his limits, both mentally and physically. Every week those limits expanded. Finally, three days before Arya and Fírnen were expected to arrive, Eragon called the two Riders, along with their dragons, to the main courtyard of the Citadel.

"Today, I bestow upon you, Dorik and Ragnorn, and you, Vogden and Landran, the rank of Dragon Rider. In three days time, you will accompany Arya and Fírnen back to Alagaesia, where you will watch over the people of the four nations of that land."

Dorik felt more nervous about leaving than he had felt about coming here in the first place. Eragon continued speaking.

"By no means do I consider your training to be finished. It is my request that you one day return here, to aid in the training of the next group of Riders. You yourselves will find that there will always be something to learn, so long as you remain open-minded."

"The dwarves had the courtesy to send to us four sets of armor, custom fit to each of you, along with a message that should the armor ever need repairing, or refitting, you need only to visit any dwarf smith."

"The humans of the Broddring and Surdan kingdoms offer to you, Dorik, and to you, Vogden, rings engraved with the mark of the Riders. I myself, as well as the other spell-casters here on the island, have transferred as much energy into these rings as we could. I suggest you do the same, for in times of combat such a reservoir of power can change the tide of a battle." Dorik took the ring, and examined it. A dragon twisted around a sword, with text from the Ancient Language forming a circle. Looking closer, Dorik saw that the word shur'tugal was written twice.

"For you, Ragnorn and Landran, the human nations offer free reign over any livestock within their borders. You need only have your Rider transcribe a note with the symbol of our Order, and the farmers will be reimbursed." Dorik wondered if the humans of those countries had ever actually seen a dragon eat. For, he thought, if they had they would not be so quick to allow them free reign.

"And I, with the aid of the elves, give you these scrolls known as compendiums. Together, we combined our knowledge of spells in the Ancient Language, and put them to paper. I suggest that as you discover magic throughout Alagaesia, you write it down, for our memories are not perfect. However, should these scrolls ever fall into the wrong hands, the effects would be disastrous."

Dorik accepted the gifts with wonder. The items arrayed before him were of great value and power, and he suspected that each was worth several fortunes. He knew they expected him to do things of equal worth to pay for the gifts, and found the prospect daunting. Eragon completed the ceremony, continuing to speak in the Ancient Language as had been a custom for the previous months.

"We have trained you all as quickly and efficiently as we can. But we can only hope that you are ready. News has reached me of an evil power rising outside the borders of the known kingdoms. The spirits are restless, as are the sorcerers that call upon them for power. Be vigilant, for you are the best hope for Alagaesia."

After Eragon's warning, the Riders retired to their homes. Dorik examined the ring, and found it to be the same color as Ragnorn's scales. Reaching out with his mind, Dorik felt a great ocean of power surging against the walls of the ring. The power was so raw, so massive. Dorik drew back hurriedly, awestruck. He then remembered Eragon's advice to fill it with energy whenever possible, and started to reach out with his mind to touch the well of power once again.

A knock at the door startled Dorik, and he looked up to see Eragon standing there, gazing at him. Dorik stood up quickly, the ring falling out of his palm. The thud of the ring hitting the ground resonated throughout the chamber, and Dorik looked at Eragon, mortified. "Master." He said in a small voice.

Eragon gave a small smile and walked over to Dorik, kneeling down to pick up the ring. "I forgot to mention something about this ring during the ceremony." Dorik looked at Eragon questioningly. It is enchanted. Any individual who attempts to scry you will be unable to do so, so long as you wear this ring." Dorik recognized the value of such a gift, and took the ring from Eragon's hand. He slipped it on and flexed his hands, checking to make sure that there was no loss in flexibility.

"Dorik, you are a very powerful magician. Certainly stronger than any human or dwarf, though you may find the occasional elf to be a challenge. But do not overestimate your power. Were you to encounter a Shade, you would find yourself to be sorely outmatched. You will find that where you may falter with magic, Ragnorn will be capable of bolstering your abilities. But even dragons tire, Dorik. That is why I strongly urge both you and Vogden to stay together, if at all possible. Together, the four of you will be capable of outmatching any opponent you may come across."

As Eragon was speaking, Dorik saw Vogden appear in the doorway, accompanied by Blodgharm. "You called us here, Shadeslayer?" Blodgharm asked. Eragon looked confused, but then realization dawned and he gave a wry grin. "Not I, but one far more powerful." Blodgharm nodded in understanding, but Dorik and Vogden looked at each other in confusion. Dorik reached out with his mind to make sure Ragnorn was listening, but found that wherever the three dragons had flown too, he could not reach them.

"Master, I cannot contact Ragnorn." Dorik said, alarmed. Eragon held up a consolatory hand, nodding. "Yes, the three dragons of this island have been secluded from us all, in the same way that we have been shielded from them. That which you are about to learn is something best taught separately." Dorik felt a growing knot of apprehension in his stomach, but before he could say anything else he felt a massive presence, more powerful than anything Dorik had encountered before.

_Hello, younglings. _said the voice. The voice was that of a dragon, undoubtedly male. It vibrated throughout Dorik's mind, until he felt as if it was shaking his very skull. _I am Glaedr, the last dragon of old. It was I, and my master, who taught Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales the lessons they passed on to you. You have not heard my voice, though you have heard my words._ Dorik felt wonder, but also confusion.

_Where are you? How can you exist? What words do you speak of?_ Dorik asked. For though he was awestruck at the presence of the dragon, he also could not fathom how it could exist.

_You ask as many questions as Eragon, when first we met. _Glaedr rumbled, a low chuckle punctuating his words. Despite the humor, Dorik could sense a great sadness. The sorrow was so extreme, it threatened to overwhelm Dorik.

_The first two questions have a single answer, while the third has many. _Dorik didn't understand, and the massive presence continued. "I shall start with the third question, while Eragon brings you to me." Dorik realized then that the presence was speaking to all in the room, and not just Dorik. He felt a surge of embarrassment as he realized he had been the only one to ask questions. Eragon motioned for the three to follow him, and led the way out of Dorik's chambers and through a series of tunnels, leading deeper underground.

_Many times, I have spoken to you through Eragon. If ever it felt he was not himself, it was when I taught with his voice. I have done it more often through Saphira, with Ragnorn and Landran for Saphira herself still has much to learn of her kind. I have learned through observation that you both have bonded with dragons true of heart, and fierce of soul. Together, you represent the true embodiment of what it is to be Dragon Riders._ Dorik felt fierce pride at Glaedr's words. They cleansed Dorik of a form of self doubt that he had not even realized he felt.

_Now, Eragon is about to show you how and where I exist. Before he does, I must explain to you the state that I reside. In each dragon, there exists a heart of heart. An Eldunarí. These represent the soul of a dragon, and can be removed without causing bodily harm. They were the source of Galbatorix's power. Hundreds exist in the room you are about to enter, but I warn you to shield your mind. In order for Galbatorix to force the fallen dragons to serve his will, he had to first break their own. I am of the few who remain who bear any resemblance to sanity._

Dorik noticed that Glaedr did not actually say he was sane, and wondered how stable the dragon truly was. But following the advice given to shield his mind, Dorik focused only on Glaedr's voice. Eragon had once told him that by focusing on a single individual, it would allow them and them alone to enter his mind.

Eragon unbolted a door, and spoke a low string of words in the Ancient Language. From the bits that Dorik was able to make out, he realized with a chill that Eragon must have spoken his true name. After Eragon finished speaking, the thick door slowly swung open, and Dorik and the others followed Eragon into the room. Hundreds of gem like objects lined the walls. Some large, some small. Some exotic colors, others of a more plain texture. Eragon led the Riders to the center of the room, where a table lay with a dozen of the Eldunarí. Dorik felt sure that the voice of Glaedr resonated from a massive golden one, near the middle.

_Here lay the minds and souls of the Dragons who were bonded to the leaders of the Riders. We aid Eragon in his training of you, but mostly spend our energy blocking the mental outrage of our broken brothers and sisters. It is from us the magic of this island seeps. The raw emotion creates in its own a form of magic that fills the very air of this land, but is only accessible by those with the Gedwey Ignasia._

Glaedr continued to talk, explaining how the Eldunarí were disgorged, and how they provided means of communication._ The heart of hearts is the most valuable possession a dragon will ever own. If ever the gift of the Eldunarí is ever bestowed upon you, you would do well not to squander it. _Dorik felt the sincerity of the dragons words, and knew that the dragon spoke the truth. After Glaedr's words, the dragon stopped speaking, and withdrew his presence from their minds. Eragon waited for a moment, then looked at the two, a grin returning to his face. "Now, Arya returns soon to bring you back to Alagaesia. You must rest, and store your energy inside the rings that I have given you. You also have scrolls of the Ancient Language. I urge you both to record what more of the Ancient Language that you may know, and study that which you do not. I expect you to be well rested on the eve of your departure, for you will not be embarking onboard a ship. Instead, you will fly back to Alagaesia. There are islands along the way where you should stop to rest. Do not try to make the journey in a single flight, for the limits of you and your dragons endurance have yet to be fully realized."

"Do not think yourselves fully trained, Vogden, Dorik." Eragon looked at each of them in turn. "Even I am still a pupil under the Eldnarí. I have only managed to teach you the essential skills you will need. If it were not for the urgency of which you are needed, I would not send you back. You must promise me that once the source of the trouble has been located and dealt with, you will return to finish your training."

Dorik and Vogden promised they would, and Dorik sensed that Ragnorn and Landran were making similar promises to Saphira. After Glaedr had retreated from their minds, the barrier between the pairs had lowered. Being reconnected to Ragnorn flooded Dorik with relief, and he promised himself he would never again be separated, if he could help it. Dorik found himself wishing they did not have to leave Dras Mor'Ranr, and the Citadel. He knew he still had much to learn, and he did not relish facing potentially powerful sorcerers without being completely trained. But when Dorik thought of how many times Arya had raced off to suppress renegade sorcerers, he realized how crucially he was needed. Perhaps when the next set of eggs hatched, and their Riders were trained, he and Vogden could return to learn the vast amounts of information that they still did not know. But until then, Dorik could not imagine how he could justify leaving Alagaesia again, forcing Arya to juggle her duties as Queen of the Elves with being a Dragon Rider. Ragnorn shared his concerns, but only said _"Perhaps things will become clearer in time. For now, we should focus on preparing for the journey." _And prepare they did, for they had collected a large amount of scrolls, clothing, and tools during their stay in the Citadel. Dorik spent most of the next two days choosing which books to bring, and attempting to memorize the ones he would leave behind.

The day that Arya arrived at the island was a busy day. The weather was perfect for flying, and after only an hour long nap and an entire cow, Fírnen was ready to fly back to Alagaesia. As Dorik tied the molded saddle across Ragnorn's back, Eragon entered the courtyard. Dorik fastened the final buckle to hold his saddle bags in place, and walked with Vogden back to greet the older Rider.

"The past six months have shown me that there is indeed hope for the future of the Riders. You will join Arya as the first truly independent Riders Alagaesia has seen since Galbatorix's uprising. Remember your training, and it will keep you alive. But more importantly, remember that which you fight for. Strength will come from purpose. Now go, and protect the people of Alagaesia."

Eragon's words resonated through Dorik's mind, and he realized that Eragon had said them in the Ancient Language. The strength of Eragon's words made them ring true for Dorik, and he felt pride quell the conflicted emotions that he had struggled with. He now felt as if he was truly prepared for the conflicts that were certain to come.

Eragon watched sadly as the three Riders flew into the distance, back to his homeland of Alagaesia. He thought of Arya's parting message, and dread flooded him. He could only hope the two young Riders would have the strength of will to guide them through to the end. He turned and walked back to the Citadel, Saphira by his side. Blodgharm and the other elves remained, tears filling their eyes as they watched the second generation of Riders fly off into the distance.


End file.
